It's quite wonderous really, How clocks around the world are ticking right now in perfect synchrony. Wonderous how even in such a large world, We are all nakedly defined by a common present. A common, now. Wonderous how the sun is setting right this moment, In one corner of the world. While it rises in another, all at the same time. . Perhaps it is all that's left that unites us through the present. Only the sun bears witness to the capering of man, For the world is simply too large for us. Large enough to let a man in Paris grab an afternoon Latté, While a woman in Casablanca runs to the sweet embrace of her lover. . Large enough that the loudest sound you hear is this poem, and my voice, Sheltered from the shelling beyond the seven seas. Large enough that at this very second, There's a little girl with ringing ears, Looking through the rubble, For her dead mother. . Now, when my voice too goes quiet. I implore you, tell me what is louder. Is it the luxury of silence?
A digital notebook of literature, thoughts and epiphanies of Klaus.